Hjerteknuser
by Fate Okumura
Summary: He broke Denmark's heart, without really meaning to. Yet at the same moment, Denmark broke his. Neither never really thought about the consequences nor did they think that it would affect them in any way. Little do they know just how painful that one decision would be, not just for one but for the both of them. Treaty of Kiel-1814
1. Chapter 1

**First and foremost, a happy birthday to my real life best friend, Hatsunefangirl! So yeah, this is the DeNor fic I promised to post for your birthday, so I hope that you like it ^^!**

**I've never really written yaoi/shonen-ai before so please forgive me if this was…Well, not up to your standard. But I hope you like it~!**

**Disclaimer: The awesomeness that is Hetalia belongs to the awesome Himaruya Hidekaz**

* * *

Norway put on his cap and adjusted the collar of his sailor's suit for the umpteenth time.

He sighed heavily as he stood in front of the double doors of Denmark's house. He brought a hand to the hard wood and ran it slowly along the surface.

"So you're really thinking of leaving."

The Norwegian didn't need to turn to know who was speaking. "I thought it was you and your boss who wanted me gone." He said coldly.

Denmark shrugged his shoulders. "That's my boss, not me."

"You signed the treaty anyway…" Norway said softly, hand on doorknob. There was a long pause before the Dane said, "What about Iceland?"

Norway's grip tightened on the doorknob. "What about him? I thought you and the boss were the ones negotiating the treaty, not me."

"True." Denmark said. "But I'm not really interested in politics that much."

Norway sighed exasperatedly. "He isn't a sovereign nation yet. And anyway, he's safer here."

Another long pause. Norway could feel it pressing down on him, weighing down on his shoulders.

"What about me?"

Norway's free hand balled into a fist beside him. "What do you mean, what about you?"

Denmark sighed, "What am I supposed to do with myself when you're gone?"

Norway gritted his teeth and hardened his resolution. "You'll have to go on without me then. Isn't that obvious you idiot?"

Denmark's hands fisted in his pockets and he set his jaw. "But I don't want to."

Norway shook his head. "You think Sve would just disregard the deal your boss made with his just because you change your mind all of a sudden and don't want me to leave?"

Denmark looked away with downcast eyes. "I know that he won't do that. He wouldn't listen to me even if I tried to reason with him. He never did. But I'm just saying that I don't want to see you going away…from me."

Norway's chest hurt and he could feel moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes but he forced himself to suppress it. "It's too late." He said coolly as he turned the knob and opened the door. "There's nothing you can do about it now."

A cold night breeze blew in through the open door. The coldness wrapped itself around them, seeming to increase the already large gap between them. Norway let out a long heavy breath, which formed a small cloud of vapor before slowly disappearing. He took one step forward but was stopped by the Dane's voice. "Norge," The hard tone in Denmark's voice surprised the Norwegian.

"Just know that that was not me who signed the treaty. That was not me who made the conditions in it and it was most definitely not my decision."

Norway stared up at the pearly full moon. "You think that makes any difference? Same thing. The treaty's been signed, Sweden agrees to it, and there's nothing you can do about it now."

Denmark shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Yeah, but the question is, do _you _agree to it?"

The Norwegian's chest tightened, like his heart was being squeezed, and his fists shook at his side. "If I don't," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "Give me one good reason to stay."

"….I don't want to see you walking away from me."

Norway only felt worse after that and his heart was as heavy as a boulder.

"I just want you to know," Denmark sighed and ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. "that if you ever gain your independence…don't hate me if you get it from Sve."

Norway could only muster a small nod before slowly starting forward. "Oh and…"

He stopped and for the first time that night, turned to look at the Dane. He was surprised to find tears glistening in his sapphire eyes. "Come by and see me sometime, all right?" He said as he gave a small, weak smile.

Norway couldn't take it anymore.

One more of these melodramatic parting scenes and he was going to lose it.

So without a word, he turned on his heel and walked briskly away, telling himself not to look back.

Never to look back.

* * *

**Great. First chapter only and it's starting to get…confusing. I tried to make this chapter as historically accurate as possible, since this **_**is **_**set**** in a real period of history after all****. More specifically, in 1814, when the Treaty of Kiel was signed between Frederick VI of Denmark to the king of Sweden, ceding Norway to the latter, and completely breaking up the Kalmar Union. I got really confused while writing this chapter because I'm not that oriented with northern European history and I had to go back and forth to Wikipedia in order to get some things straight. But I really tried my best to make this fanfic more historically accurate, so if you find anything that contrasts with something in history, then please notify me and I will try to revise that.**

**And to explain the title, it's Norwegian for 'Heartbreaker' and is actually the title of a song by the Norwegian alternative rock band, Kaizers Orchestra. It was this song that made me think of writing a DeNor fic in the first place and I thought that it sort of fit the situation they are in. You should go and check it out! It's a really good song and Kaizers Orchestra is a really good band ^^. You will not regret it, trust me!**

**Anyways! Like I said, this is a birthday fic, so Hatsunefangirl, I hope you're happy! And yes, it is going to be a multi-chap. (Because I'm too lazy to write a one-shot XDD). This chapter is short because, well, it's a prologue! But I promise longer chapters ahead!**

**Anyways, please review and I hope you liked it ****! **


	2. Chapter 2

**...**

**I know I should be updating my other stories now, but somehow, I feel like updating this story more than the others ._. so I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait longer for updates from my other stories XDD. Anyways...**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya and STUDIO DEEN'S STAFF HAS CHANGED AND THERE'S A NEW ART STYLE AND OMG YOU'VE GOT TO SEE IT!**

**Ahem. Anyways, enjoy ^^**

* * *

Nothing seemed to be wrong when Iceland woke up in the morning. In fact, it felt just like any other day. And the day before that. And the one before that too.

Bright morning sunlight fell on the floor of his room from the open window and a breeze ruffled the light blue curtains. Staring up at the ceiling, Iceland listened to the sounds of the morning, as had been his routine. Maybe he could hear (and smell) Sweden cooking in the kitchen, or Finland chattering cheerfully. Denmark being his usual, loud obnoxious self and maybe a scuffle from Norway in the next room. But all that met Iceland's ears that morning was the rustling of the leaves and chirping of birds outside. Other than that, there was only silence punctuated by the seemingly absolute emptiness of the house.

Iceland sighed. It had been like this ever since Sweden and Finland left and it had only been him, Denmark and Norway in the house.

It seemed that the moment Sweden and Finland had walked out of the house, they had taken all the cheer with them. It wasn't much that they were the ones who brightened up the atmosphere and cheered everybody up, but more on the fact that their departure had shown new possibilities to them. New, frightening possibilities. Sweden's and Finland's leaving had opened up a fact that had never occurred to Norway, Iceland or even Denmark.

And that was the fact that they could leave.

Just as easily as Sve and Fin had packed their belongings and had gone, they could do the same. This possibility, however, appealed more to Norway and Iceland than to Denmark.

Iceland had at first been frightened of this possibility. Having gotten used to the new life he has lived ever since Norway had first taken him under his wing, Iceland had absolutely no idea about the world beyond the borders of their lands. He had become accustomed to his status as a province of Norway and was therefore used to the fact that his 'big brother' would always be there for him. Now that Norway (and therefore, he too) was part of the Kalmar Union, he was used to the constant (albeit loud and obnoxious) presence of Denmark as well.

But even the thought of leaving Denmark, leaving Norway, of not having them around anymore to protect him, of becoming independent...

Was something that Iceland just couldn't afford to think about.

So the fact that he could simply up and go and just leave had frightened him and had simply seemed far-fetched, impossible, to him that he put it out of his mind and tried not to think much about it.

But he knew.

Deep inside of him, he knew that he couldn't be like this forever. He couldn't keep depending on Norway or on Denmark all the time. He knew that someday, however unthinkable it was now, he would have to leave this house forever. Maybe it wouldn't be him who would leave first. Maybe he and Norway would leave Denmark's house together. But he knew that soon it would be his turn to leave. Just like Sweden and Finland.

But it wasn't only Iceland who was aware of this fact.

Norway was too.

Although the impassive look on his face betrayed nothing, Iceland knew that it was only a matter of time before Norway would think of leaving Denmark's house.

Iceland sighed and sat up in bed. Pushing the thoughts out of his head, he got up and got dressed.

There would be more time to think later.

* * *

The house was completely empty when Iceland made his way downstairs.

The little breakfast nook where they usually ate their meals was empty and completely devoid of dirty dishes and stained tablecloths. The kitchen was as empty as the hollow inside of a shell and there was absolutely nobody in the living room.

Iceland could feel the emptiness on his skin like a piece of cloth, pressing down on him from all sides. The house had always felt empty ever since Sweden and Finland left. But not this empty.

Iceland pressed his ear against the door of Norway's room. Silence was the only thing that met it. But of course, that didn't really mean anything. Staying silent for a long time was a specialty of Norway's. Iceland knocked on the door three times. "Nor?" He said.

No answer.

"Hey," He said, knocking again. "It's breakfast time." Still no answer. Usually, Norway would open the door by now or at least give a sign that he was inside. But there was nothing. All there was...was silence._  
_

Iceland pushed gently against the door. To his surprise, it was unlocked and it swung ajar with a creak. Iceland felt his pulse quickening and his heart started to pick up the pace as well. A small lump formed in his throat and he could feel his palms going sweaty.

"Nor...?" He said hesitantly as he pushed the door fully open. When he saw what was inside, his eyes widened and his heart only continued to hammer in his chest.

Norway's room was empty.

Literally empty.

The white walls were completely bare and so was the floor. The bed was neat and empty and the only sign that it had been used was the slightly messed-up pillows. Iceland ran over to a set of drawers and pulled them open by random. Each one was empty.

He ran out into the landing and down the hall, heart hammering in his chest, both with the adrenaline and the sudden realization slowly dawning on him. "Denmark!" He called out as he neared the Dane's room. "Den!" He called out again as he barged right into the room. It was dim and the only light came from the small sliver of sunlight that shown through the space in between the drawn curtains.

And slumped against the wall, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and three empty ones on the floor beside him, was Denmark, head bent, completely silent.

"Den!" Iceland crouched down in front of him. "Oh god!" He snatched the bottle of whiskey from the Dane's hand and grabbed him by the shoulders. Denmark only looked at Iceland with a blank expression. His eyes were red and puffy and his face flushed. "Norge..." He muttered. His breath stunk of the whiskey. "Get a hold of yourself!" Iceland said, shaking him roughly. Denmark's head only lolled drunkenly to the side. Iceland sighed exasperatedly. "What's gotten in to you?"

"Norge..." Was the Dane's only answer. And suddenly the answer came to Iceland.

He didn't need to ask Denmark anymore. His heart sunk like a stone being dropped from a height and you could even hear the pathetic sound it made when it hit the ground and shattered.

What he had feared the most had finally happened.

Norway had gone.

He tried to wrap his mind around this possibility. Tried to make himself accept the fact that Norway had left. But he had gotten so used to Norway's presence, so accustomed to the fact that he had been always there for him, that he simply could not even comprehend it. He wanted somebody to pinch him, tell him that this was all a really bad dream. But then, why did the tears taste so bitter? Why did the numbness in his fingers feel so cold? Why...Why did this all just feel so real?

He had known. Had known all along that a day like this was bound to come. But absolutely nothing had prepared him for the suddenness of it all. Nothing had prepared him for the pain it brought.

But what was worst was the harsh, cruel reality that he hadn't even bothered to tell him. Him, his brother, of all people. Iceland felt worse than just upset. He felt betrayed, violated in the sense that he was denied of something he had a right to. Iceland knew that Norway probably had his reasons for leaving like that, but the anger, hatred and helplessness was clouding Iceland's mind and he just didn't know what to do.

Swallowing back the last of his tears, Iceland repositioned himself so he was crouching beside Denmark. He hooked an arm under the Dane's arms and slowly helped him up. "Come on, Den." He muttered as he helped Denmark to the bed where he then lay him. "I'll make some breakfast..." Iceland said, turning around and walking out of the room, just as another realization dawned on him.

The Union was broken. The kingdom of Denmark-Norway was dissolved.

Norway was gone.

And soon, it would be Iceland's turn.

Very soon.

* * *

Sweden leaned against the tree heavily, arms crossed over his chest. He was impatient. He had been waiting for more than an hour now and he slowly starting to get tired of waiting.

Sweden stared up at the sky, which was a light blue peppered with white fluffy clouds, and somewhere in the depths of his mind, he thought of Finland. He thought of how, if he was here with him right now, he'd point out some clouds and tell him (Sweden) what shape they were. He thought of how he just seemed to shine even brighter than the sun itself when he smiled. He thought of how his laugh sounded so cute yet beautiful at the same time. He thought about those pair of sapphire eyes, sparkling like stars in the middle of the day.

He thought about how the Fin always managed to erase all his doubts and problems. How everything else just dissolved or didn't matter anymore. Just one look of that smile and it was like magic.

But it was all gone.

Sweden had lost not only to Russia but he had lost these small moments and treasures of happiness as well. He could still remember the look of pure terror and helplessness on the Fin's face. A look that clearly said, _'Please, help me.'_

But how could he, now?

A twig snapped behind him and Sweden spun around. Norway emerged from between a pair of trees. Sweden relaxed and stood up straight. "Y've m'de y'r d'cision, th'n?"

Norway stopped only a few feet away from him and gave him his usual cold look that Sweden had gotten used to seeing on him. "What was I supposed to decide when I wasn't given a choice in the first place?"

_Still as stubborn as always, I see..._ "Y' c'n't proper'ly n'gotiate w'th a p'rson w'thout asking f'r th'r cons'nt."

Norway looked up at the sky, just as a breeze ruffled his white-blond hair. "Funny," he closed his eyes. "I can't seem to recall ever being asked for my consent when you and Denmark signed the treaty. And anyway, wasn't it you and him who did the negotiating?"

A long silence followed this statement. Sweden looked at Norway then and noticed just how different he was from the Fin. It wasn't only their appearances and personalities (which was quite obvious, really). But there just wasn't that same spark in the Norwegian that Sweden had found in Finland. Norway was a cold, distant being better left that way. Finland...Finland was different. Very different.

"L't's go." Sweden said, turning slowly on his heel and walking away. Shortly afterwards, he heard the soft sounds of Norway's footsteps following behind him.

His boss may believe that Norway could replace Finland. But not Sweden.

Nobody could ever replace Finland.

Nobody.

* * *

**This chapter sounds so messed up ;A;. But ah well, I had to revise this a lot since I just wasn't ****satisfied with it, especially the part with Ice and Den -.-. Plus I was doing this in a rush since my mom was practically screaming bloody murder at me to go to sleep while I was writing this so sorry if this was kind of rushed -.-.**

**Oh and to clear things up, the king of Denmark made sure to specify when he signed the treaty of Kiel that only mainland Norway was to be ceded to the king of Sweden. Which meant that Iceland, Greenland and the Faroe Islands, which were then part of Norway, were still kept under Danish rule. So that's basically the reason why Iceland is still there XDD.**

**Anyways, please tell me what you think, thanks ^^**

**Soon, Iceland._ Sooon..._**


	3. Chapter 3

**And here I am with another chapter for this story! All right, so I _still_ haven't updated my other stories -.-. But, the sad thing is, while I have writer's block on one, I get lots of ideas on another. The another here being this story XDD. I've already got the next chapter planned out and this story is starting to turn out pretty well. (Despite me still being a complete dunderhead at history -.-). I might not update next week since even you guys have to admit that I have to focus on my other stories XDD but aside from that, I can almost guarantee that I will be updating this story weekly. (But it's not a promise though...)**

**So, onwards~!**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

Russia's home was probably the biggest one that Finland had ever seen. It might not be the biggest in the world, but it surely outsized Denmark's.

However, despite all the king-sized rooms with all sorts of trinkets in it, despite having everyone who lived in it for company, Finland found himself alone in one of the mansion's grand rooms. He hadn't really meant to be in this room in the first place. He had just happened to be passing by while he had been lost (again) in the corridors on the way to his room and the beautiful view of the sunset outside the large floor-to-ceiling window was too good a chance to pass up.

So Finland found himself whiling away the rest of the late afternoon, sitting by the window and staring out as the sun slowly sank into the horizon. And strangely enough, all he ever thought about there...was Sweden. He didn't even know why.

All he knew was that Sweden had just been another country, wanting his (Finland's) territory for his (Sweden's) own glory. And he was nothing more than that. Not to mention that the Fin found him scary.

Yet, there was something in those deep-blue eyes. Something buried under that stoic disposition. Something lying hidden behind that hard look on his face. And Finland had seen that something during his time with him. A glimpse of it, at least. And he didn't know what, but there was something about it that made Finland's view on the Swede change. Made him unconsciously discover a part of Sweden that wasn't really that bad at all. Had made him slowly and unintentionally like him. Even more than a friend.

But this weird feeling he got in his chest whenever the Swede would so much as look at him, this jittery nervousness that overtook him whenever he tried to make conversation with Sweden. Even Finland himself couldn't quite place it. It was unpredictable and just plain strange. And because the Fin had never felt anything like it before, he had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. Was there some sort of instruction manual for these kind of things? And there was that same question always burning in the Fin's mind.

Why Sweden?

Why him of all people?

Finland could have liked anyone. Anyone at all. Yet why did he fall for the Swede? Well sure, he _was _kind of good-looking, if you only looked past the scariness of his expression. But what had _really _caused Finland to like him? The answer was right in front of him, he knew it. He just had to open his eyes and see it clearly.

But right now, shouldn't he be feeling relieved that he was finally free of Sweden (despite the fact that he was now under Russia, who was just as scary)? Shouldn't he feel even just a little bit glad that Sweden was no longer around to make him feel all muddled up and confused?

Unfortunately, the answer was no.

Ever since he had come under Russia's rule, Finland had only become even more confused about his feelings. What was this weird, heavy feeling in his chest? What was this strange desire to see the Swede (Yes, he knew that this was wanting), even _longing_ to be with him? But somehow, deep inside of him, the Fin knew that he didn't need to ask.

He knew what this feeling was. He just didn't want to acknowledge it or deem it as so. The truth was just too much for the Fin to handle. He couldn't think straight and he couldn't comprehend it.

But somewhere deep in the depths of his heart, he knew...

He missed Sweden.

Missed him like he had never missed anyone before. And it only beat him how the hell he had ended up missing the Swede.

"Oh there you are, Finland!"

Finland jumped and spun around to find himself face-to-face with the ever-smiling Russia.

"OHYAAAA~!" Finland shrieked and toppled backward off his chair. Russia smiled down at him. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you? Are you hurt?"

_Yes and yes! _"O-Oh no, not at all..." Finland replied feebly from his tangled position on the ground. "Good." Russia said. "Because it would be too bad if you went down to dinner with a broken leg. You _will _go down to dinner tonight, _da_?" Russia flashed Finland a sinister smile as if saying "You better come or else...You don't even want to know."

"Y-Y-Yes! I'll be right down!" He said a little too shrilly, jumping to his feet. The smile on Russia's face looked so innocent but Finland knew better. "Excellent. I will be expecting you then. Oh and Finland."

"Y-Yes?" Finland asked nervously. God, he hoped he wasn't shaking! Russia only continued to smile at him. "Don't go running off away, _da_?" He finally said. Finland felt a shiver go down his back. "Uh, right."

"I'm glad to hear that." Russia finally turned and walked away. Finland sighed and relaxed. He turned to look out at the window. The sun had just set and the sky was a beautiful dark blue. Bright pinpoints of light were just starting to appear and the moon gleamed pearly white against all of it.

Right now...Was Sweden looking up at the sky, thinking of him just as Finland was thinking of Sweden?

Somehow, the thought overwhelmed the Fin and he quickly turned away from the window and walked briskly out the room, just as a small silvery tear ran down his cheek.

* * *

His first night in Sweden's house, and Norway couldn't sleep.

He had tried though. Tossed and turned, lay on his sides and on his back, even covered himself whole with the sheets. But nothing seemed to work.

Norway lay on his stomach on the large bed in his new room, dark ocean-blue eyes staring at the window. Or rather, the starry sky outside the window. And the whole time, he pondered, why did the Dane come into his mind in the most inconvenient of times? Which was, all the time since he left. His slick blonde hair, his ever-present grin, his blue eyes always with that glint of playfulness.

Why couldn't he just forget him? There was no more Kalmar Union. No more kingdom of Denmark-Norway. All of that was a thing of the past now and the past it would stay forever. But why couldn't he just get that irritating Dane out of his mind? What was worse was the vision replaying over and over again. Of the last time he saw him. That weak grin, so full of sorrow. Those tear-stained sapphire eyes, sparkling like a pair of stars. Sad stars...

Finally admitting defeat with a frustrated sigh, Norway got up and walked towards the window. Opening it, he stuck his head outside. The cold night breeze felt sharp on his cheek but its coolness relaxed the Norwegian. He stared up at the midnight sky, dotted with twinkling stars and an idea struck him.

Well, if he couldn't sleep, might as well make most of it.

Left hand on the side of the window and right hand on the window pane, Norway hoisted himself out onto the empty flower box outside the window. The freezing cold hit him full force here but he ignored it. He was used to it. The room that Sweden had given him was at the top of the house, right under the roof. Norway had only to stretch out his arms and grasp the edge of the roof gutter then pull himself up.

Climbing unto the red tiles of the roof, Norway stood and brushed a few strands of hair from his eyes. The moon was a pearly white orb against the dark blue of the night sky and the stars surrounding it sparkled like diamonds.

Norway lay down on his back, hands behind his head, and stared up at the sky.

Why did the Dane's eyes come to mind when he saw those stars? The bright playfulness in them and the reassuring warmness. The blue of the sky was like those eyes..Only they were a little lighter. No, Norway argued. They weren't like the sky. Comparing them to sky was underestimating them. The blue in those shining eyes was nothing like the sky. It was much, much more. It was a blue like no other. A whole different shade of blue. The most beautiful, most stunning shade of blue.

Norway's face turned a tad bit red and he slapped a hand to his eyes. "What am I thinking...?" he muttered. He lifted his hand from his eyes, still kept closed, and brought it to his forehead. What was it that suddenly made Norway think so much about Denmark?

He had never thought of somebody this much before. In fact, the only person he had thought of for this long was Iceland, but that made sense; He was his brother after all. But now, although he was naturally concerned about Iceland, he thought more of the Dane than of him now.

"What is wrong with me?" Norway said to the wind. However, nothing answered him.

Then Norway saw a light behind his closed eyelids. It was rosy and turquoise, bright and mysterious.

He held his breath. Was this light what he thought it was...?

Slowly opening his eyes, Norway saw a gleaming wall of colors painted across the sky. It shimmered and moved as smooth as water yet as soft as velvet. It was like a colorful mosaic, a million colors mixed and melded into one amazing mural on the vast wall which was the sky. It was the Northern Lights. Otherwise known as the Aurora Borealis.

It was the most beautiful thing Norway had ever seen.

And suddenly, voices spoke in his mind's ear.

_"Hey look everybody! It's so pretty! Isn't it, Sve?"_

Finland.

_"'ndeed."_

Sweden.

_"Yeah, it is! And we're so lucky to see it too!"_

Denmark.

Norway could already see it.

All five of them sat on the roof of Denmark's house, gazing at the pure beauty of the Lights...just like he was lying here, gazing at them now.

_"Hey Norge, what do you think of when you see the lights?"_

Norway could just see those Dane's eyes, sparkling with a playful curiosity. He opened his mouth to reply scathingly to his question but the new voice, his own voice, beat him to it.

_"What kind of a question is that?"_

The Dane grinned and shrugged his shoulders. _"Just asking."_

_"I don't know._" Norway answered bluntly. And it was the truth.

_"Oh come on! You must be thinking of something!"_

_"Well sorry to dissapoint you, but I'm not!"_

_"...Okay then, want to know what I think?"_

_"No."_

_"Aw, you're no fun, Norge!"_

_"Why'd you ask me in the first place then?"_

_"At least take a guess..."_

Norway sighed. _"Fine then. Yourself?"_

_"No."_

_"Beer?"_

_"Nope."_

_"Rainbows?"_

_"Not even close!"_

_"Oh just tell me already!"_

And then Denmark grinned and with eyes gleaming as bright as the Lights themselves, he said, _"Isn't it obvious? Whenever I see the lights...I think of you."_

Norway felt the heat rushing into his cheeks and he punched the Dane on the arm. "Idiot..." Norway said, at the same time the Norway in his memory said it. And he couldn't help but smile despite the small tear at the corner of his eye.

Even until now, Norway wondered if he had really meant it. Had Denmark been truly honest back then? Or had that simply been a joke?

Right now...was he looking up at the Lights and thinking of him, just like he said he did?

No. Norway swiped at the tear in his eye and shook his head. This wasn't right. Not right at all. Past is past, and that's it.

Yet...

The heaviness in his heart...What did that tell him? The Dane haunted his thoughts, made him feel a strong heavy emotion in his chest. No matter how hard Norway tried, and believe me he tried, to forget Denmark...he only seemed to remember him more.

And slowly, the answer dawned on him. This heaviness, this longing, this recurring yearning for the past...

"I miss him." Norway finally admitted, staring up at the Lights.

His stomach twisted into knots and a lump formed in his throat. But why? How? The Dane had never been anything special.

Until now.

Norway rubbed his eyes impatiently. He needed to clear his head. And rest was exactly what he needed for that right now.

Getting up, Norway walked right to the edge of the roof and gripping the roof gutter, lowered himself down to the flower box and jumped onto the floor of his room. Casting one last look at the shimmering Lights, Norway closed his window and climbed into bed, hoping that a good long sleep would truly be the remedy to this whole maddening business.

* * *

**So, anyone guessed why I put Norway and Finland in the same chapter by now XDD?**

**Yeah, their situations right now are quite similar, are they not? But what of Denmark and Iceland? What of Sweden? Well, you'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out what happens next ;). If you want spoilers, I suggest you go dust off your history books. Or better yet, go to these links I so graciously placed here! (Remove spaces)**

** en. wikipedia wiki/ Norway_in_1814**

** en. wikipedia wiki/ Union_between_Sweden_and_Norway**

**But there's no knowing where my ideas and writing will take me though -_-. So! **

**PLEASE. REVIEW.**

**I admit that I am kind of upset about the 2nd chapter not getting any reviews AT ALL. And I worked on that freakin' chapter till fudging midnight D:! So please please please review! For you authors out there, you know how it feels T_T.**

**Anyways, till next update~!**

**I love Finland's shriek ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't even want to say anything anymore -.-. Let's just get to the story!**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya**

* * *

The hangover Denmark had that morning was nothing compared to the pain that he felt. He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, not knowing what to do. **(AN: This line sounds like song lyrics...) **He felt strangely numb, unfeeling, distant. He couldn't find the strength to move and his head hurt like hell. He couldn't even cry anymore. This grief went beyond tears now. It was the empty, desolate, frozen kind of grief. The kind of grief that left you wasted and hollow, broken and useless, like all the hope and happiness in the world had been sucked out of it. It was the worst kind of grief and it was almost always brought about by a hard loss.

Denmark felt this grief pressing down on him, trapping him in its fingers, squeezing all the breath from him. It was a heavy weight on his shoulders that he couldn't carry but was forced to. And there was only one person that the Dane could think of whose departure would do this to him. The one person whom he had only just begun to care for more than just that. That one person whom he couldn't reach now.

"Norge.." He whispered his name over and over again, hoping with all his heavy heart that he would receive an answer. But only silence replied to him every time he said that name. Only the darkness heard him and his voice echoed hollowly in his small room.

Denmark was tempted to grab another bottle of whiskey. At least it made him forget, even for just a while, the wounds in his heart. But his hangover was only getting worse and worse by the minute and the Dane decided not to push it. The crude bacon and eggs Iceland had made however, lay untouched and cold on his bedside table. But the Dane wasn't hungry. For that, at least. He just wanted to see the Norwegian again. Just wanted to see those dark ocean-blue eyes, just wanted to look into them and spill everything that he had kept locked up in his chest all this time. But now, how could he do that? How could he even think of doing it, with all this pain in his heart?

But what was most painful for the Dane was the fact that it had been him who had pushed Norway away. Well, technically it had been his boss, but it was still him. It was him who had signed that treaty without even thinking about what would happen after he did so. It was him who made Norway leave. He had nobody to blame but him for all this grief weighing down on him. It was his own hand who was pulling the strings behind this grief. And now it was time to pay the consequences.

There was a sudden knock on his door. "Den?" Iceland.

Denmark didn't answer. The door opened and Iceland walked in. "Hey." He said in a blunt voice. His eyes flicked to the untouched plate of bacon and eggs and he said, "I see you haven't eaten your breakfast yet." He sighed and walked over to the bed. "Den, come on. You can't do this to yourself."

Denmark chuckled mirthlessly. "Yes, I can." He said in a hoarse voice. "No you can't." Iceland shook his head. "You're a country, for God's sake and you have to act like it."

"And just what do you know about being a country?" Denmark said, not daring to meet the younger nation's eyes. "You're barely one yourself."

Iceland turned stiff for a moment but when he answered the Dane, there was a new tone to his voice. It was a defiant, determined tone. "I know I'm not a country yet. I know that, as of now, I am still a part of the Kingdom of Denmark. But one day, I'm going to have to become one. A country, I mean. An independent nation. I know that, and I want to be ready when that happens." When Denmark looked at him then, there was a hard, determined expression on Iceland's face, like his mind was set and there was nothing that would ever make him change his mind.

Iceland turned his head to meet the Dane's eyes and he said, in a steady voice, "I know how you feel towards Norge."

Denmark was slightly taken aback by this but what had he been expecting? He had been a bit too obvious sometimes. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed anyway. He hiccuped, "So?"

"You like him, don't you?" Iceland said. Denmark closed his eyes and sighed. He brought a hand to his head and looked away from Iceland. "And what if I do? What would you tell me?" Iceland was silent for a few moments, then he opened his mouth to reply. However, his reply was nothing that Denmark had expected.

"I would tell you to just do whatever you think is right to do."

Denmark swallowed hard as slowly a decision was being made in his mind. "And what if I decide to go after him?"

Iceland shrugged his shoulders. "Then do it. It's your decision and you have the freedom to do it. I've no right to say anything against it."

Denmark sighed as finally his mind was made. His resolution was strong. And what Iceland had said only strengthened it. And slowly, even a small blossom of hope was growing in his chest. It was too early though to decide if it would come to full growth.

Denmark got up and sighed heavily. "What are you going to do anyway?" Iceland asked, hands crossed over his chest. The Dane turned to face him and said, meaning every single word, "I'm going to go after him."

* * *

**REALLY short chapter. I'm so sorry T^T. Fudge, the writer's block has finally caught up with me! I've been evading it as far as the 3rd chapter now but...God, who gave it a ferrari and where the fudge did it learn to drive so fast?! **

**Please bear with me and my indecisive mind right now. You might not expect an update for long starting now but I shall try my utmost best to outrun this stupid writer's block ..**

**In the meantime, motivate me and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I really really need to get all these facts through my thick head. I spent like an hour on Wikipedia reading different articles which were all basically about the events of 1814 in Norway and the union between Norway and Sweden. And a solid 40 minutes of that one hour was just me getting really really confused and even more so when I read about it in another article. *sigh***

**Anyways!**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA**

* * *

Norway didn't know what he was expecting when he went down for breakfast. To tell the truth, he wasn't really thinking properly that morning so he wasn't expecting anything at all. It was one of those moments where you just aren't thinking of anything and you just don't feel like thinking, like you were in a trance or a daze. That was how Norway felt when he arrived at the kitchen and found Sweden sitting there, eating a small breakfast of smörgås*.

The Swede looked up briefly when Norway stepped into the sunny kitchen but returned almost immediately to his food. Another plate of smörgås lay across the table, evidently for Norway. One part of the sandwich was covered with tomatoes and lettuce while the other with salmon, eggs and lettuce. This wasn't exactly what Norway was used to, but he didn't complain and sat down to eat. He usually didn't get anything this good for breakfast back at Denmark's house. Usually it was just plain bread and butter.

The whole affair of breakfast went by in silence, neither of the two nations speaking as they ate. And that suited them just fine. Norway was, as might have been mentioned, feeling a bit dazed today and Sweden had his own problems and priorities to worry about. Upon finishing his smörgås, Norway got up and made to bring his dirty dish to the kitchen when Sweden said in a stern voice, "Wh't w're y' doing up on th' roof l'st n'ght?"

Norway stopped, back turned to Sweden. "Why do you ask?" he asked, his voice cold and calm. Sweden got up, his chair scraping backward as he did. "Wh't w're y' doing up on th' roof?" he repeated.

"I couldn't sleep." Norway replied simply. "Is th't all?" Sweden didn't sound convinced. Norway nodded before walking calmly into the kitchen and depositing his dirty dish on the sink. He turned around to leave but found Sweden blocking the doorway to the kitchen. He sighed, "I told you, I couldn't sleep so I thought a little fresh air would clear my head a little." A long moment of silence followed. Norway stared defiantly at Sweden, as if saying, 'I'm not scared of you.' Finally, Sweden turned and walked away. "Where are you going?" Norway asked, following him to the living room. Sweden put on his hat and opened the door. "B'siness." He said simply.

Just before he was about to step out the door, he turned back to Norway and fixed him with a long hard gaze. "D'nt go 'nd try 'nything f'nny wh'le 'm g'ne." Norway stared him down. "Like what?" he said, casually shrugging his shoulders. Sweden turned around. "L'ke leav'ng." he said, before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Norway stared at the door where Sweden had stood just a second ago before staring down at the floor. "Like I can." he said bitterly to no one at all before retreating up to his room.

* * *

"Dammit!"

Denmark kicked the wall in frustration as he marched angrily out of his boss' meeting room. He stormed down the hall, cursing under his breath, clenching and unclenching his fist from the handle of his axe as he went. He wanted to hit something. Anything. All the rage and angry emotions were building up inside him and soon he wouldn't be able to contain it. If he couldn't handle it any longer, someone might get hurt.

"Den!" Iceland jumped up from his chair where he had been waiting and raced after the Dane. "Wait up!" Denmark however didn't seem to have heard him. He kept walking briskly, teeth gritted and face red with anger. Why couldn't they understand? Why couldn't they just see? Did they even have any idea how Denmark felt?

"Den!" Iceland's voice sounded muted and distant as Denmark stepped into the crisp outdoor air. His feet would not stop walking. His chest would not stop filling up with anger. A scream would not stop building up in his throat until he let it out. Had he been building his hopes up just to be dissapointed like this? Well he should have expected it. He knew that his boss wouldn't exactly jump at the idea and he knew it was going to be tough to convince him otherwise. But the harsh, cruel words that the boss had told him kept coming back to him. It played over and over again in his mind, as if to taunt him, reminding him of his many mistakes and flaws. It was unbearable, and Denmark just wanted to get it out of his head.

"Denmark!" Iceland grabbed him by the arm and held on firmly, causing the Dane to stop. The younger nation's grip was strong, despite his size. _Just like his brother. _Denmark thought bitterly. Iceland sighed, mostly out of relief that he had finally caught up with the Dane. "Okay." Iceland fixed the Dane with a hard, determined expression. "What happened in there?"

Denmark scoffed and shook the younger nation's hand from his arm. "Doesn't matter." He muttered gruffly. Iceland was silent for a moment before saying, "They didn't allow you, did they?" Denmark gritted his teeth. "You think I'd be this upset if they let me?"

He turned his back on Iceland and walked a few paces away from him. His fists shook but he forced himself to calm down. Iceland walked up behind him. "So what are you going to do now?"

Denmark shook his head. "I don't know, Ice." Iceland frowned, "So you're just going to give up like that?" Denmark felt his frustration escalating. He sighed exasperatedly "I don't know, okay! Now just..." He took a deep breath. He knew it wasn't right to let out his anger to Iceland. He was only trying to help after all. "Come on, let's go home."

Denmark walked dejectedly forward, hands in the pockets of his coat. Shortly afterward, he heard the slow shuffling footsteps of Iceland following close behind. They walked on in silence, neither speaking nor making it clear that they wanted to. The sound of the wind and the crunching of the dirt under their feet was all that could be heard. But to the Dane, the silence was already louder than any word that came out of his mouth.

No matter what he did, nothing could drown out his boss' voice. Nothing could mute those hard, hateful words repeating themselves in his mind's ears. It made him shake in anger just thinking about it and it turned his knuckles white with clenching his fist too hard. How could that man say that to him? Him, the personification of this country? It was infuriating. He just didn't understand. No one did.

"Den."

Iceland grabbed his arm, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Denmark stopped in his tracks. They stood outside his house but they weren't the only ones there. A man with dark locks of hair and equally dark intelligent eyes stood in front of the house, dressed smartly in a suit. When the man caught sight of them, he turned and smiled slyly. "Why hello, Mathias. A long time no see, is it not?" Denmark felt a jolt when he realized that he recognized this man. But what was he doing here?

"Christian Frederick?" The Dane said, almost disbelievingly. Iceland looked at him questioningly. "You know this guy?"

Christian chuckled. "Know him? I am the heir to the throne of Denmark-Norway. Of course Mathias here would know me." He smiled his sly smile again. Denmark took a step forward. "What do you want?"

"Oh just a simple chat. Won't waste much of your time." Neither Denmark nor Iceland moved. Christian cleared his throat. "Alone. Just me and Mathias." Iceland seemed to have been jolted out of a trance. He turned to look at Denmark, who sighed and said, without looking at him, "You better go in to your room, Ice." Iceland opened his mouth to protest but one look at Denmark's deadly serious face was enough to convince him otherwise. Giving Christian a suspicious glance over his shoulder, Iceland walked into the house and shut the door behind him.

Christian sniffed and coughed. "I don't suppose we can chat inside, can we?"

"We'll talk here." Denmark said with a note of finality in his voice. "If you're not comfortable with it, you can just leave."

Christian sniffed indignantly. "Fair enough. Now Mathias, I heard from the grapevine that you...were quite upset when old Frederick turned down your request to reclaim Norway." Denmark stiffened but kept his poker face. "So? What does that mean to you?" Christian's sly smile was starting to get to the Dane. "What I'm trying to say Mathias, is that we're on the same side. You are against the ceding of Norway to Sweden, so am I. We are both fighting the same enemy here."

Denmark narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you trying to tell me?" Christian shook his head, laughing. "Oh Mathias. Do you not understand? Allies must help allies. Friends must help friends. We are on the same side in this silent battle, so why don't we help each other? My services in exchange for yours and your services in exchange for mine. It would be like killing two birds with one stone. What do you say, eh?"

Denmark frowned, "What's the catch?"

Christian blinked. "Catch, my friend? Pardon me, I do not quite understand you."

"Quit the fancy talk then." Denmark snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Christian blinked then seemed to understand. "All right then." He said, all formalities and any bit of friendliness gone. "I'll be frank, if that's what you want. You want Norway back, yes? Well, you know what I want? And what the other Norwegians want?"

Denmark shrugged his shoulders. "What?"

There was a sly glint in Christian's eyes as he said, "Independence."

Slowly, a light bulb seemed to have turned on in the Dane's head. "Wait, I think I can guess what you're trying to tell me here." Christian smiled slyly. "Well by all means, give me your best guesses." Denmark frowned in concentration. "You want me to help you form some sort of independence movement in Norway so they can break out of the union with Sweden." Christian looked genuinely impressed. "Correct."

Denmark scowled, "Then how the hell is that supposed to help me?" Christian chuckled and shook his head. "Oh Mathias. Like I might have said, the Norwegians want independence. They want to be free. And reclaiming Norway and re-establishing the kingdom of Denmark-Norway won't give them that. It would most certainly not make them happy. Now I understand why you'd want to re-establish the kingdom. Believe me, I do."

Denmark scoffed. "I doubt that." Christian cleared his throat. "Let me finish. Anyways, this could both work for us, Mathias. I want an independent Norway. You just want to be with Lukas again, am I right?" Denmark twitched at the casual way Christian just called him and Norway by their human names. It was as if they were equal. As if Christian thought he was equal to them, the personifications of the countries. It irked the Dane to no end.

"How is making Norge independent going to help me? And why would you need my help anyway?" Christian shrugged. "With the influence of the personification of Denmark in the independence movement, we could go far and might even achieve our goal sooner than expected. As for how this can help you, think about it this way Mathias, you can't see Lukas while he's with Sweden. You can't talk to him, you can't be with him and that is all by the order of the treaty. However, when he becomes independent, he is free to do whatever he wishes. The words of the treaty would be meaningless then. Do you not see how his independence would benefit you also?"

Slowly, the answer dawned on the Dane. If Norway became independent, then he wouldn't have to stay cooped up with Sweden. Nobody could restrict him from seeing anyone. And that included Denmark. The offer was tempting. Norway got his independence, Denmark could see him again. Everybody wins.

"But how do I know I can trust you?" Denmark crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. Christian's sly smile never failed to leave his face. "Oh you can trust in me, Mathias. I won't let you down. So," He held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Denmark looked at Christian's pale hand suspiciously before slowly walking forward. Christian's smile only widened as the Dane got closer. Finally, Denmark halted right in front of Christian. However, after at least a few seconds, Denmark walked right past him. Christian looked surprised to say the least. He spun around, outrage clear on his face. "Now see here, Mathias-"

"I'll think about it." Was all Mathias said before closing the door on Christian's face. He heared him fuming outside on the doorstep and he couldn't help but chuckle. Slowly, he leaned against the door and listened for any sign that the guy was still there. Soon, he heard the sound of footsteps quickly retreating from the doorstep. Denmark covered his face with his hand and sighed wearily.

"Oh Norge...what do you want me to do?"

* * *

***smörgås - ...Go google it yourself. Nah, just kidding! A type of Scandinavian open sandwich that consists of one piece of buttered bread, often whole-grain rye bread (Danish: _rugbrød_, Swedish: _rågbröd_), topped with, for instance, cold steak, shrimps, smoked salmon, caviar, hard boiled eggs, bacon, herring, fish fillets, liver pâté (Danish: _leverpostej_, Norwegian: _leverpostei_ Swedish:_leverpastej_), and/or small meatballs. This is typically complemented by some herbs and vegetables such as parsley, cold salad, thinly sliced cucumber, tomato wedges and/or pickled beets etc. on the same slice of bread. A condiment, such as mayonnaise, or mayonnaise-based dressing is also often included in some form.**

**Lame chapter ending is lame -.-**

**Short chapter is short -.-**

**Anyways...what the fudge have I done to Christian Frederick?! I don't think I did him enough justice T^T. Forgive me~! But really, I have so few sources and this was seriously the best that I could do. I'm not that familiar about the lifestyle during this period of time as well so forgive me, prissy historians, if there are a few mistakes.**

**So, please review~! And thanks for reading! **


	6. Chapter 6

**I apologize for the really long update. I guess I'm just trying to get this chapter done and over with before things get **_**really **_** busy 'round here. And I guess that well, at least update to celebrate the 5****th**** season. **

**So, well, that's all.**

**Though I have to warn you, there's a lot of teenage angst (for lack of a better word) going on with Iceland here.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to the awesome Himaruya Hidekaz.**

* * *

Ever since Norway left, Iceland had a list going of the number of times he had felt useless. The day Norway left was one of those times, that time with Christian Frederick was another.

But the time that topped the list, by far, was this.

Standing there, watching Denmark slowly fall into depression was probably Iceland's most useless moment, hands down.

It was like his brain would stop functioning when things like this happened. He had absolutely no idea what to do and he would end up just standing there, awkward and yes, useless. As much as he wanted to help Denmark, Iceland felt that there really wasn't much he could do. Sure, he could cook food and clean the house but that was it. (and he doesn't really do a good job of it either) When it came to even just trying to comfort a person, especially Denmark, he might as well have been mute and invisible.

To make things worse, he couldn't drive out Christian Frederick either. The man came by everyday, bringing up his stupid offer in the hopes that Denmark would change his mind. However, because the Dane outright refused to leave his room (most of the time), Iceland of course would have to deal with Christian Frederick himself. And he didn't like it. Not one bit.

The guy was insufferable. Always with that sly grin and that drawl of a voice. Iceland hated it. But he couldn't do anything about it. So far, at least.

All he had done and what he could do so far was delay Christian Frederick. He knew that soon he would no longer be able to hold him back. He would get to Denmark eventually and then he would get his way, finally. The best that Iceland could do now was delay it. But he just didn't know why. Why was he doing this? Why did Denmark have to act this way? Why was that annoying pig of a crown prince doing this? Something was going on between the countries of Norway, Denmark and Sweden. He knew it. He just didn't know what exactly.

Iceland couldn't even decide if Christian Frederick's intentions were good or bad. But, he thought as he dumped his empty dish in the sink with a sigh, that question will be answered soon.

It was sooner than he thought.

The moment he picked up the Dane's breakfast and was going to bring it to him, there was a loud knock on the door, followed a few seconds later by a succession of loud banging that must have been meant to be knocks.

Iceland rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly before placing the dish on the table and running to get the door.

"What now?" He said, irritated, when he opened the door. Christian Frederick stood on the doorstep, smiling that stupid sly grin that the young nation had so come to hate.

"Ah Emil. Is Mathias in there?"

Iceland's eye twitched at the casual way that he just called them by their human names, like they were simply humans themselves. It was disgusting.

"Yes yes, I'll go get him." Iceland said quickly, shutting the door in Frederick's face.

Taking the dish of breakfast with him, Iceland went up to Denmark's room and knocked on the door. But he knew that there was really no reason for him to. The Dane barely locked his door nowadays.

"Den?" Iceland said, pushing on the door. It creaked open, making a long shaft of light appear on the dark floor of the room. Denmark sat on the desk by the corner of the room, engrossed in a book. Iceland admitted, that kind of took him by surprise. As far as he knew, Denmark didn't read. At least, not as much as Norway or Sweden. But, he thought as he entered the room, there was a first time for everything.

"Den." He said, placing the dish on the table next to the book. "Christian Frederick's back."

The Dane only nodded his head but his eyes never left the words on his book.

"What are you reading?" Iceland asked, the curiosity getting the best of him. Denmark didn't seem to have heard. Or maybe he did, he was just acting like he didn't.

And somehow, this made something in the Icelandic snap. It was like all the patience he had left was slowly seeping away and now, finally, it had all emptied out. The frustration that had built up inside him since the very beginning was slowly starting to envelope his entire being and he couldn't take anymore.

"Denmark." He said, his voice starting to sound stern. "Will you just tell me what's going on?"

Denmark didn't respond, only continued reading.

And Iceland could only get angrier and angrier.

"Fine then!" He said, heatedly. "If that's the way you want it go, then so be it! You stupid, stupid idiot!" He added as an afterthought.

"Funny. Isn't that Lukas' line?"

Iceland spun around and even Denmark looked up from his book to look at the doorway of the room, where Christian Frederick stood with that sly grin on his face.

"Who told you to come in?" Iceland said, glaring at the man. Christian Frederick raised his eyebrows at him as he walked into the room, hands behind his back. "If I do recall correctly, you left the door open." Iceland felt heat rushing to his cheeks and he quickly forced down the embarrassed blush coming to his face. "What do you want?" He asked.

Christian Frederick smiled as he inspected the room. His nose wrinkled up in disgust at the slight smell of alcohol present. "Mathias." He said, addressing Denmark directly. "When are you ever going to learn? Alcohol is not going to solve any problem."

Denmark returned to his book and said nothing. Christian Frederick sighed and shook his head though the sly smile never left his face. "Still being difficult, are we? But oh well. I'm not worried. You'll come around, eventually."

Making a small turn around the room, he made for the door. "I shall take my leave now. Good day." He said, tipping his hat to Iceland and Denmark.

Iceland could feel the contained anger inside him threatening to burst as he watched that pompous beast walking away. It was all just frustrating how everybody seemed determined to keep Iceland in the dark. Nobody ever told Iceland anything unless it concerned him having to do something for them. And he was sick of it. Was it because he was only a mere island of no importance at all? Was it because he wasn't old enough? He wanted nothing more than to shout out all the frustration in him and keep on shouting until his voice was hoarse and even then, it wouldn't be enough to completely cover up all of the anger in him.

Iceland was interrupted from his thoughts by the sudden sound of Denmark's chair scraping against the floor as it was pushed backwards. The Dane himself stood up and strode towards the door. "Den?" Iceland said, alarmed, as he ran after him. Denmark was faster however and by the time Iceland reached the bottom of the stairs, the Dane was already outside, leaving the door hanging open, letting in a cold draft accompanied by snow.

Iceland stumbled towards the door and stood there, leaning against the doorframe as he watched the scene before him.

Denmark was talking to Christian Frederick, who was already a little way away from the house. The Dane had such a serious look on his face that Iceland could hardly believe that this was the same crazy, grinning Denmark from just a few days ago.

As Iceland watched, he saw Christian Frederick's eyes widen and he started to say something but Denmark cut him off. Iceland couldn't hear anything because of the distance between them but he could tell, even without knowing, that they were talking about Christian Frederick's little deal. Denmark was still talking but finally, after a few seconds, he stopped and both he and Christian Frederick stared at each other. Finally, the latter sighed and held out his hand to shake.

Iceland's eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly as he slowly began to realize exactly what they had been discussing. Denmark glanced at the hand, said something that might have been a warning, then took the hand and shook it. And Iceland could already see the smug, sly smile on Christian Frederick's face.

Denmark turned and strode back to the house, his face a hard expressionless mask. Christian Frederick stared after him, that smile still on his face. The moment the Dane crossed the threshold, Iceland shut the door behind him.

"Please don't tell me you just accepted his deal." Iceland said, turning to face the Dane.

Denmark looked away, refusing to meet the younger nation's eyes.

"Den. Look at me." Iceland demanded.

"I can't."

Iceland blinked then seemed to realize that Denmark had just talked to him for the first time in days. "Why not?" He asked.

"Because…" Denmark's eyes glanced at the Icelandic for a brief second before looking away. "You remind me too much of him."

Iceland's eyes widened and he let his arms fall slowly to his sides. "Oh." He said nonchalantly. He looked away, suddenly feeling awkward. Silence reigned between them as none made any move to continue talking.

Finally, Iceland sighed and looked up at Denmark. "Just tell me straight. Did you accept his deal or what?"

Denmark didn't give him an answer for so long that Iceland was beginning to think that he was ignoring him. Sighing dejectedly, the younger nation walked towards the stairs.

However, Denmark's voice stopped him.

"Yes. I did."

Iceland stopped and turned back to look at the Dane. Denmark stared back at him, his face still as blank as ever. And suddenly, he was a different person. He wasn't the noisy, cheerful Dane that he had known before. Times had changed him and it was like none of the old Denmark was left in him. And suddenly, Iceland didn't know him anymore.

He took a deep breath. "At least tell me what's going on." He said.

Denmark looked away and the expression on his face was almost sad, pitiful.

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

**I have absolutely no patience right now so just R&R, thanks.**


	7. Chapter 7

**This is a really late update, I know. **

**But since I won't be online much during the weekend and since my mom's going out of town next week (bringing the laptop with her), I doubt that I would have any other opportunity to update this.**

**So, I do not own Hetalia, let's get this going already!**

* * *

"Den? Den!"

Denmark groaned and turned over, blinking at the bright sunlight coming in from his window. Iceland stood beside his bed, trying to rouse him from sleep, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Five more minutes." The Dane said lazily, covering himself up with his sheets.

Iceland sighed exasperatedly and tried to pull the sheets off. "You don't have five minutes. Christian Frederick's outside waiting for you."

Denmark immediately re-emerged from under the sheets to look at Iceland disbelievingly. "What? This early?"

Iceland rolled his eyes. "It's nearly midday, Denmark."

Sighing heavily, the Dane got up and sat on the side of his bed, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. Iceland, seeing that his business was done, exited the room, giving Denmark a look that did not conceal the least bit of confusion.

Denmark sighed and got dressed, wondering just what the hell Christian Frederick would want of him now. When he went outside to the living room afterwards, he wasn't at all surprised to see an impatient look on the crown prince's face as he sat in one of the chairs, casting furtive glances at the clock on the mantelpiece. Iceland stood leaning against the kitchen table, arms crossed over his chest and a look of complete disdain aimed right at Christian Frederick.

"Ah, Mathias!" Christian Frederick greeted Denmark, getting up from his seat and walking towards the Dane with a forced smile. "Good morning."

"G'morning." Denmark replied groggily, yawning. "What's this all about?"

Christian Frederick chuckled. "Oh come, Mathias. Surely it would be obvious to you what the reason for my visit is?" He raised his eyebrows at Denmark, as if giving him a hint.

Denmark only frowned at him. "Either tell me or you're going to have to leave."

Christian Frederick's smile immediately dissolved into a look of barely concealed contempt. "Dear, dear. Not feeling very polite today, are we? Well Mathias, need I remind you that we have made a contract, and according to-"

"Yes, yes, I remember your crummy contract." Denmark cut him off, not bothering to hide the growing irritation in his voice.

Christian Frederick raised his eyebrows, as if unable to believe that Denmark actually had the strength to remember something for that long. "Well then. We have nothing else to discuss. Come."

He turned on his heel and strode towards the door, opening it to reveal a carriage parked right outside. "We don't have time for dilly-dallying, my friend." He said pointedly.

Denmark narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Christian Frederick as he followed him outside. At the last minute, he remembered Iceland and turned to face the nation, who was still standing there, leaning against the table.

"Ice, take care of yourself and the house while I'm gone, okay?"

The look that Iceland gave him was as blank as could be as he replied, "Yeah, sure."

Denmark nodded at him before he strode over to the carriage and climbed inside through the door that Christian Frederick had been holding open for him. The moment he had sat down on one of the seats, the carriage gave an uncomfortable lurch forward and started moving.

Christian Frederick was staring out of the window at the house, an amused expression on his face.

"I do hope Emil has been behaving himself while he's with you." He said, the tone of his voice bordering on mocking and amusement.

Denmark felt a wave of hatred building up inside him as he said, "Yes. He's quite behaved actually."

Christian Frederick looked at him as if he very much doubted that. "You aren't planning on letting him go, are you?"  
Denmark's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Christian Frederick sighed. "I mean, making him a sovereign nation of his own, setting him free."

Denmark looked away. "I-I don't know. I guess…it would depend on the king and the queen."

"You know what, Mathias." Christian Frederick leaned forward towards the Dane, resting his elbows on his knees. "The king and queen are nothing more than pawns of the country. Puppets, if you will. They live to rule and watch over the country, some may say. But no."

Denmark frowned at him. "I don't-"

"They exist purely as decoration." Christian Frederick said, the tone of his voice harsh and tinged with disgust. "They exist only to be seen, only for the people to see. So that the people may be reassured that they have a ruler to sort out all the problems in society. So they can be reassured that someone is doing something. But what they don't know, is that nothing is happening at all. Their supposed ruler is doing nothing more than sitting on the throne, musing about things that he should be doing to help his country." Christian Frederick scoffed. "It's pathetic."

Denmark stared at him. "What's the king and queen got to do with this?"

"Why, Mathias!" Christian Frederick laughed mirthlessly. "They've got everything to do with this! Isn't it because of them that Lukas is now with Sweden?"

Denmark opened his mouth to say something but no words would come out. He closed it and stared out the window, wondering why he suddenly felt so depressed.

Silence reigned over the carriage for about a minute before it was rent by Christian Frederick. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned Lukas."

Denmark only shook his head, not taking his eyes off the rolling green fields outside his window. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked." Christian Frederick said, his tone now softer and calmer. "We're going to pay a little visit to our poor, oppressed Norwegian citizens."

Denmark whipped around to look the crown prince disbelievingly. "We're…We're going to Norway?"

Christian Frederick chuckled. "Why, yes. Precisely so."

Denmark could only stare at Christian Frederick as he let this information sink in and in spite himself, he actually felt excited. Norway. He was going to Norway. He might even see Norway.

"Oh we won't be seeing Lukas, I expect." Christian Frederick said, making Denmark's heart sink like a stone. "He's probably in Sweden's house right now and I doubt that Sweden would let us see him anyway."

"Oh." Denmark said, trying not to show the disappointment in his voice as he turned back to the window. Moments later, he turned back to look at Christian Frederick and asked, "Why are we going there anyway? And why are you taking me with you?"

And there it was. Christian Frederick's sly smile and that familiar glint in his eyes. The Dane was wondering where that had gone off to.

"Simple. If we intend to start a rebellion, then why not start it in the very midst of the people who want what the success of the resistance can give? Why not start it within the Norwegians unhappy with what the government has done to them? Do you understand?"

"I still don't understand why I have to go with you." Denmark said quietly.

"Why, Mathias." Christian Frederick laughed. "You are as much an important part of this as I am. The influence, and I hope the mere presence, of the personification of Denmark in the resistance will help the rebellion go far I'm sure. After all, what is the king against the country itself?"

Denmark wasn't quite sure what to make of this. Something was telling him to not trust the very words coming out of Christian Frederick's mouth, much less the very person saying those words. Yet another part of him was telling him otherwise. Telling him to trust Christian Frederick and do whatever he says.

The Dane didn't know which part to listen to. He didn't even know if Christian Frederick was actually good or bad.

Right at that moment, the carriage stopped with another lurch and Denmark could hear the sound of people chattering and moving about.

"We're here, your liege." The coachman said, opening the door for Christian Frederick and him.

Christian Frederick gave Denmark a look before climbing out of the carriage. Denmark followed and hopped outside to a wide cobbled street, lined with houses. Stalls of food and other wares were placed here and there with their owners calling out to passers-by to get them to buy something from them. People milled about, children ran and played, weaving through the legs of the adults, and there was an air of business about the place.

Denmark turned just in time to see Christian Frederick walking along the crowd, a cloak draped over his shoulders. The Dane followed, wading through the sea of people.

Just ahead, he saw Christian Frederick stop in front of an old house with shuttered windows and a few tiles missing from its roof.

"Mathias," Christian Frederick turned to look at the Dane when he finally caught up with him. "I want you wait outside until my business here is done, understood?"

"Yes." Denmark nodded his head.

Without another word, Christian Frederick pushed open the door and walked inside, shutting it firmly closed behind him.

Denmark leaned against the wall beside the door and stared off into the crowd. He didn't know why, but he found himself searching for Norway among the people milling about. He had no idea why he was doing this, especially since he knew that there was very little chance that he would actually see the Norwegain here. But somehow, he just couldn't stop himself from doing so.

Denmark didn't know how long he simply stood there or how much time had passed since Christian Frederick had entered the house. All he knew was that it was taking quite a long time and he was starting to get impatient.

He stared up at the sky, which was a clear cloudless blue. The sun shone bright and brilliantly on the cobbled street below and a cool breeze blew through the place.

The Dane sighed as he turned back to look at the crowd – and his heart skipped a beat.

He stumbled a little but managed to regain his balance as he stared at a certain person in the crowd, mouth gaping open, heart beating madly in his chest and mind reeling.

"Norge!" He called out, running towards the person who had his back to him. It had to be him. It just had to. There was no mistaking that curl anywhere.

"Norge!" He called out again, all other thoughts blocked from his head as he ran even faster after the person. People were now noticing him, turning to look at him oddly, but the Dane didn't care.

Norway. He had seen Norway.

"Norge!" He called out even louder, willing his legs to go faster. He could just catch sight of Norway. Just a little closer, please, yes, just a little closer.

"Norge!" Please look this way, please hear me, please notice me.

But right at that moment, a particularly large group of people walked across the street right behind Norway's back, blocking the Norwegain from Denmark's view.

Denmark gritted his teeth in frustration. Dammit, of all the damn places and times this had to happen, it had to be now.

"NORGE!" Denmark called, craning to see above the heads of the people but he could no longer see Norway anywhere. He pushed forward into the crowd, looking around desperately for any sign of the Norwegian.

But no.

He couldn't see him anymore.

He had lost him.

Denmark sighed and shook his head, disappointment and anger raging inside him.

He had lost him, when he was right there.

Lost him…not for the first time.

Right at that moment, a hand fell on Denmark's shoulder and he spun around, almost expecting to see Norway.

But instead, he came face-to-face with Christian Frederick, who looked relieved to have finally caught up with the Dane.

"Mathias…" He panted. "What…What did you think you were doing?!"

"I…" Denmark stared off into the distance, at the spot where he had last seen Norway.

"Nothing." He said gruffly before pushing past Christian Frederick to the waiting carriage, his chest heavy.

* * *

Norway could swear that he had heard someone calling his name.

And not just once. But five times. (Believe me, he was counting)

But it always sounded so distant and far away. Norway didn't know who could have possibly guessed who he was but there was something familiar about the voice. He just couldn't quite place it, or he couldn't hear it properly to quite recognize it.

He sighed as he walked through the throng of people in the market square, trying not to bring too much attention to himself.

Right at that moment, Norway had the strange impulse to look behind him. He didn't know why or where this came from but he did so and was surprised to see a horse-drawn carriage heading straight towards him.

He immediately walked over to the side of the street to avoid being flattened by it. As it passed him, Norway could swear that there was something familiar about the crest on it. When he tried to see who was inside the carriage however, the curtains were drawn over the windows.

Ah well, he thought grudgingly as he trudged forward again after the carriage had passed, once you've had enough of certain governments and their ways, you'll start thinking that every crest and symbol of every kingdom looks the same.

And not once did the carriage cross Norway's mind after that.

* * *

**Basically Denmark in that part when he was calling out to Norway: "Norway-senpai, please notice me!" XDD. Just had to, sorry. ****You know how sad and heart-breaking it was when I was writing the last part while listening to A Drop in the Ocean? **

**All right, updates may be going slow from now on. **

**Me and my parents will be going on vacation this weekend with their friends which means, to the province it is with no internet connection! So no, I probably can't update during that time. (In fact, I'm trying to update all of my stories by this Friday or before Friday next week.)**

**Like I might have mentioned, my mom's going out of town (like she always is) next week and since this is, technically, her laptop, she's going to have to take it with her. And get this, she'll be out of town FOR A SOLID MONTH. And I doubt that she'll be able to buy a new laptop for herself and give this one to me, like she said, what with how little time we currently have and with everything going on. **

**So no can do, can't update much.**

**And need I mention that next week will be the getting of our school report cards and that I might have failed math (again) which means that I'll have to take summer completion class (again) if I want to advance to the next grade? Oh and I also have a few other projects to worry about and have to write super-quick!**

**Yeah, my internet time seems quite limited this month. **

**God this is turning depressing.**

**So, bye, hope you guys have a better time than me this month!**


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